


grand sonata

by madanach



Series: he keeps it safe (hallway 'verse) [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 09:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10409259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madanach/pseuds/madanach
Summary: Basti wants to hold Lukas’ hand — realizes, in the few empty seconds between floor six and floor seven, that he can.Coda to "they were a long hallway".





	

Basti tries quiet the humming in his veins. He can’t reconcile this easiness with the reality of what is actually happening, that last night he told Lukas he loved him and this morning they kissed for a very long time and now, after a day full of good food and cliché sightseeing and Lukas’ name on the check for dinner to make up for being pulled into a marketing meeting right as the sun was at its peak, they’re heading back up to their hotel room, to the bed that they share, like they have countless times before and yet somehow never like this.

Their shoulders are pressed together, lined up next to each other leaning against the elevator wall like there isn’t enough space for six men their size. Basti wants to hold Lukas’ hand — realizes, in the few empty seconds between floor six and floor seven, that he can. 

He pushes his hand to the side, still too new to this to watch Lukas while he does it, but their knuckles brush and he hears Lukas sigh quietly and then their fingers link comfortably together. 

“Your hand is cold,” Lukas says, just above a whisper. 

“It always is,” Basti says, looks over and feels himself smile at the warm, fond look on Lukas’ face. Just as the door dings and slides open, Lukas leans in and presses his lips to the hinge of Basti’s jaw.

Old habits and older fears make Basti’s eyes snap to the empty doorway. There’s no one there to see the way Lukas breathes out against the side of Basti’s neck, scoots closer and bites gently at the red-purple bruises from before. 

“Ah,” Basti breathes unintentionally, and then, with a firmer grip on Lukas’ hand, “And we haven’t even left the elevator yet.”

Lukas chuckles and pushes his nose into the shoulder of Basti’s jacket. He doesn’t reply, doesn’t make any lewd jokes or insinuations, just lets Basti pull him out of the elevator and down the hall, waits patiently as Basti fumbles with the key.

“Christ’s sake,” Basti mutters, “Can’t they just give us keycards?” He gets the key in the lock but it won’t turn properly.

Lukas grins, Basti knows, though he can’t see it. “Doing okay?”

“Shush,” Basti says as the door clicks open. They walk inside together, and then Lukas kicks the door behind them and they’re plunged into darkness.

Lukas says, “Whoops.” As Basti laughs, he steps forward and pulls their hands apart so he can wrap his arms around Basti’s waist. Basti feels the broadness of his grin against his cheek.

“Mmm,” Basti says, suddenly out of breath. He can’t find any words, not with Lukas so close. He blinks away the image of Lukas lying on his chest, focuses instead on the hint of light seeping through the curtains and the way he can just recognize the curve of Lukas’ neck, the bump of his ear, the crow’s feet tracing a path to the corner of his eye. 

Lukas pulls back enough to brush their noses together, then touch their foreheads. Basti lets out an unsteady breath.

“Yeah,” Lukas whispers, voice so quiet it cracks on the word.

They breathe each other in for a heartbeat, and then another, and then Basti pushes infinitesimally closer and presses their lips together.

If he thought that morning was beyond belief, it’s nothing compared to the impossibly gentle way they slot against each other and kiss, unhurried, quiet in the dark. Lukas’ hand runs lazily up his spine and Basti brushes his thumbs against Lukas’ cheekbones, pushes his fingers downward to feel the muscles working in his neck as he tilts his jaw for better access.

Basti doesn’t know how long they kiss before Lukas breaks away, pushes his face into Basti’s neck as he grins and grins and grins. “I like kissing you,” he admits, muffled in the jacket that Basti hasn’t yet gotten around to taking off.

“Yeah,” Basti says, “We should, uh, never stop.” Lukas laughs, full-bodied, shaking against Basti’s shoulder, then turns his head to smile up at him.

“Bed?” he asks.

“Hah,” Basti says, “Fuck, _yes_.” He shoves Lukas playfully backwards and Lukas laughs again, makes a rude gesture in his direction before plopping onto the bed and tugging at his shoes.

“Hey, open the curtains,” Lukas says, before Basti can sit down next to him. Basti quirks an eyebrow but does so obediently, letting the evening sun flood the room. It won’t give them light for long, but now he can see Lukas playing with the hem of his hoodie, unsure if he should take it off, and then lifting his head up and smiling at Basti from across the room.

Basti’s brain stutters, just a bit.

“C’mere,” Lukas says. “I just wanted to be able to see you.”

Basti crosses to him automatically, leans down and kisses him as the words sink in. Lukas lifts his chin to meet him and rests his hands on Basti’s hips, warm enough that he can feel them through his jeans. When he tugs forward Basti goes, the momentum pushing Lukas down underneath him. He sits there, straddling Lukas’ hips in all his clothing, tips of Lukas’ fingers ticklish enough on his knees to make him grin, and realizes, not entirely unexpectedly, that the swell expanding to the inside of his ribs, the curve of his throat, the drop in his chest where his stomach would sink is his own brilliant, waiting happiness.

Lukas’ bright eyes say the same thing. 

“You,” Basti says, and then tips forward, pushing Lukas into the mattress with all his weight. Lukas cackles and wraps his arms around Basti’s neck, delighted.

“Ahh,” Lukas says, wiggling under Basti to get comfortable. “Yeah, good.”

“Yeah, good?” Basti says incredulously, kisses the expanse of skin under Lukas’ jaw lightly and then cranes his neck upward to grin at him. “‘Yeah, good,’ is pizza coming ten minutes early.”

“That’s you,” Lukas says solemnly. Basti raises an eyebrow until Lukas can’t keep his face straight anymore, smiling and running his hands languidly up Basti’s spine. “Um,” he says, watching Basti’s face, “You looked. Really great today.”

Basti blinks. Lukas groans.

“If that made it weird, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Basti breathes, and then he presses forward and kisses Lukas soundly, knees bracketing his hips, Lukas’ hands running up over his shoulders and into his hair. “I can’t believe this,” he says again and again, against Lukas’ lips. Lukas hums and tugs him further down. 

Their hips knock together. Basti catches his breath.

A look at Lukas, whose breathing has also gone carefully still, and then —

“We should,” Lukas says.

“Yeah,” Basti rushes in, “Yes. Yes.”

“Jacket off,” Lukas says. Basti sits up, fighting with his zipper, feeling Lukas’ legs slide out from under him as he pushes himself towards the headboard. By the time he’s extricated himself Lukas has pulled his hoodie off and is sitting by the pillows, legs crossed, watching Basti with poorly hidden interest. Basti kicks his shoes onto the floor and crawls up the bed.

Lukas reaches for one of his shoulders, then the other, and pulls him down. 

Basti has had lots of good sex and his fair share of great sex and none of it compares to Lukas moving underneath him, rocking lazily, one hand moving steadily up and down his back while the other lingers in his tangled hair. He always thought that if he and Lukas ever happened — which he resigned away years ago, never even bothering to hope — it would be rushed or drunken, maybe, that want he couldn’t keep inside when he was a kid coming out all at once, to be lived and experienced and only spoken of sheepishly the morning after, Lukas’ quiet voice apologizing for his mistake, saying _it’ll never happen again_.

He never expected this. He barely dreamed of it. It was so, so far from his reality. 

Now, knowing what it feels like, knowing the warmth of Lukas’ lips and Lukas’ hands and Lukas’ body all around him, knowing the way Lukas says _you looked really great today_ and _I just wanted to be able to see you_ and _me too_ , he doesn’t know how he ever expected anything else.

Lukas’ hands find the hem of his shirt, he whispers “Fuck off, how many layers is this?” and Basti can’t breathe for a moment because it’s his Lukas, like he’s always been, so familiar his chest aches with it, and how could he ever have been anything but?

“Wanna find out?” Basti whispers back, kissing Lukas even as he laughs and pushes a hand into Basti’s shoulder, mocking. 

“Please,” Lukas says, and then his fingers disappear under Basti’s sweatshirt and shirt, resting lightly on the notches of Basti’s spine. Basti inhales, sharper than he intended. Lukas spreads his palm flat.

Basti breathes out, drops his head into the crook of Lukas’ neck. “Okay.”

“You good?” Lukas asks. He doesn’t move his hand but his other goes back to Basti’s neck, stroking lightly, scratching the bristly hairs that have spread over the hollow of his skull. 

Something jolts in Basti’s chest at the concern in his voice. “It’s all okay,” Basti says, nosing the underside of his jaw. “Do whatever you want. I want it.” He feels Lukas’ throat jump as he exhales, then the vibration as he says, “Basti, I want—”

“What do you want?” Basti whispers, and then Lukas’ hand pushes up farther, Basti attaches his lips to the skin of Lukas’ neck, and Lukas says, unsteadily, “You, fuck, I want you.”

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Basti says, and then he’s pushing up on his elbows and kissing Lukas fiercely, overwhelmed by the words he never thought he was going to hear him say. His mind is racing. He feels blind with it. 

“God damn,” Lukas says, grip on Basti’s lower back tightening. He pushes the back of Basti’s shirt up, ignoring the second layer keeping it caught down, says, “Come on, come on.”

Basti nods and sits up on Lukas’ hips, falling backward when Lukas jolts up and follows him, both hands under Basti’s shirt now, pushing it up under his armpits and then pulling it inelegantly over his head. “Fuck,” Basti mumbles, and watches as Lukas sits back, takes him in.

“Basti,” Lukas says, reaches out and touches the divot at the convergence of his ribs.

“Lukas,” Basti says, can’t say anything else. 

Lukas smiles wryly, spreads his palm across Basti’s chest. Basti feels him feel his heartbeat.

“I feel—” Lukas says softly. “I feel like I’m gonna wake up.”

Basti thinks about snow in Lukas’ hair in Munich, thinks about Rio and Paris and Lukas’ weight all these years lying next to him, never not close enough to touch. Lukas pushes himself up on his elbows and noses into Basti’s cheek as his eyes come back into focus.

They meet each other halfway.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this eons ago and sat on it. it's a rough, unfinished coda to [hallway](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2844257/chapters/6379334), back when i felt obligated to bracket everything with porn--i still somehow managed to get tired before i hit the porn with this but. here.
> 
> in honor of lukas' last game. sorry for what i've done in your name. you were good.


End file.
